


hey, see, i ditched this party (would you like to keep me company)

by nanakomatsus



Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Partying, Slice of Life, barista! ong for like 2.5 secs, minhyun rambles, nothing much honestly, one night stand but it's sentimental
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 11:50:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16325678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nanakomatsus/pseuds/nanakomatsus
Summary: in which minhyun ditches a party and mopes and meets some barista who gives him a taste of a proper night out





	hey, see, i ditched this party (would you like to keep me company)

**Author's Note:**

> destress.

 

“There’s a party at the International Students‘ block tonight. Let’s go.“

Minhyun watches pretty red lips form the words. He doesn’t hear the voice that speaks it and barely registers the invitation until several hour later, when Dongho is nudging him in the side, pointing his chin towards the door of their shared apartment. His roommate has his hair slicked back, wearing a tank top, showing off his tattoos and ripped black jeans.

“Oi, we’re going to get an earful. I’m not in the mood to listen to that brat whine, let’s get going,“ Dongho says gruffly, putting on his Doc Martens.

Minhyun blinks and finds that he’s still in sweatpants and a flannel. Then it clicks and his body and mind go into overdrive as Dongho realises as well and begins shouting at him _oh my god he’s going to kill us, Min!_

Fifteen minutes later, they’re running down the street with Minhyun dressed in whatever he’d managed to grab first from his pile of neatly stacked clean clothes (now toppled and ruined, he’d have to fold them all again) - which happens to be a pair of jeans and another flannel - he’s going to get screamed at for looking like a basic bitch and ah-

Choi Minki stands just ahead of them, arms crossed across his chest, looking down at his phone with a frown, blonde bobbed hair flurrying about in the summer breeze. Of course, he’s dressed the best - a simple white shirt, choker, acid-washed jeans and red leather jacket to match his make up. Ever the fashionable one.

Icy blue eyes narrow in dangerously on the both of them. Before either of them can start to apologize, the blonde shoves his phone in his faces. The time reads 9:30 p.m..

“Half an hour,“ he hisses and they’re both ready for an earful but instead, Minki just shakes his head and turns away, beginning to walk away.

“Both of you owe me a meal each. Tomorrow,“ he announces, raising his voice over the noise of the traffic and crowd around them. Dongho and Minhyun exchange looks, shrugging.

“Sure,“ They reply in unison, glad to be spared.

The entire IS block is lit up like New Year’s. It’s the middle of the year. Some foreign music pulses through the air, so loud, bass so heavy the three of them can feel the ground vibrating even from three floors down. Colourful lights shine through several windows. The balconies and corridors are packed. The smell of alcohol is almost overwhelming. It’s not even midnight.

The meals will have to wait. They have to survive the night first.

 

Kwak Aron, contrary to the rumours of his genius brains, comes up with the dumbest ideas. _Honestly._

“Let’s go bar hopping! Or club hopping! Or whatever! What do you guys say?!“ He shouts the question out over the blasting music. He’s met with cheers and all around positive responses.

Minhyun can’t help but feel the bile coming up in his throat as he’s pulled by the strong current out of the apartment and into Hongdae. Being in the living room, having to sit right by the beer cooler and acting as waiter was one thing, but now, getting dragged on a night-long alcohol journey surrounded by noisy eccentrics? Great. What a great Monday night.

Dongho appears by his side, clearly enjoying himself as much as Minhyun is. They’re really not cut out for this.

 _At least I can hold my drink,_ he sneers, and Minhyun blinks and glares at him, looking mildly offended.

 _At least I have a lower chance of being an alcoholic,_ he mutters back. Dongho laughs.

The first bar they hit is slightly grungy with its paint-splattered walls and neon lights. Minhyun orders a Cola. Dongho orders a beer (his third tonight). They watch as Minki downs his Cosmopolitan in two gulps with a round of cheers in response.

The second one is darker and has a more Western feel with its American memorabilia hung up on the walls and whiskey lining the shelves. Minhyun orders a cold lemon juice. Dongho orders a malt. They watch as Minki plays darts. It’s a disaster and in no time, they’re on the move again.

The third one, Minhyun likes. There’s a corner with a disco ball and a leather couch which he rushes to fill himself. A record player stands beside him, with a few vinyls strewn over the table. It’s still noisy but the music’s good. He almost falls asleep. Dongho doesn’t join him, instead striking up a chat with some freshman, uncharacteristic and highly surprising but then again, there’s alcohol and good ‘vibes‘ as the young ones call it these days.

He does, eventually, fall asleep.

It’s the strange silence that wakes him up.

Minhyun looks around, disoriented, and finds not one familiar face. Some part of him is relieved, yes now I can go home and sleep, but another, much larger part of him is panicking. He’s being left alone in this strange, colourful world and he’s been in the neighbourhood for almost two years now and yes, he goes out but not out here this is way out of his zone-

There’s another, tiny part of him that reminds him it’s only midnight and there’s no better excuse to get lost.

Of course, he listens to that tiny voice. He leaves quietly and takes off down the art-filled streets.

 

He finds it.

He finds The One.

It’s a small, unassuming corner lot, yellow light glowing through wide windows behind a wall of wood. Inside, it’s warm compared to the cool summer night outside. The dark upholstery makes for a retro feeling. It’s an old little thing with its greying walls and exposed ventilation pipes and untiled floors.

It’s definitely The One.

Minhyun takes a seat by the counter. The bartender doesn’t seem to realise his new customer and continues with his washing up. The hazel-haired man studies the selection of drinks, contemplating. He probably shouldn’t-

“Didn’t see you there, “comes a voice. The bartender - a tall, lean, handsome man - greets him with a cheeky smile. “Order?“ He inquires.

“A rum, please,“ Minhyun says after a beat.

“Coming right up.“

Not a minute later, a glass of deep brown is set before him. He reaches out, taking it between his hands. For a few long moments, he turns it over between his palms thinking about… nothing at all.

“You going to drink that or would you like to order something else?“ Comes the bartender’s voice, pulling him out of his thoughts. Minhyun blinks, shaking his head.

“No, it’s fine. I just…“ he trails off, unable to make an excuse for himself. The man at the opposite side of the counter lets out a short, breathy laugh.

“I take it you don’t drink?“

Minhyun hums. “I’m not a drinker.“

The other man barks in laughter at that.

“So you don’t drink.“

“No, I don’t.“

“So what are you doing with a rum?“

Minhyun opens his mouth to respond before thinking twice and shutting himself up, sort of like a carp.

“We have coffee, you know. And sashimi, if you want,“ the man offers.

“Okay.“

“Which one? The coffee or the sashimi? “

“Both.“

“Okay. “

A plate of slices of pink and a mug of warm brown are set before him a few minutes later. Grabbing a pair of chopsticks, he digs in, inhaling everything in more or less ten minutes. The bartender whistles, wiping down the counter.

“Looks like someone skipped a meal.“

A meal. Minki. Dinner. And lunch. Minhyun groans. The other man chuckles.

“So what’s your deal? You’re from Hongik, I take it?“

Minhyun nods absently, sipping on the last of his coffee.

“Majoring in?“

“Korean History. Second year.“

The man hums, setting the rag down and moving on to arranging bottles.

“So what’s your deal? Here to do some philosophical pondering?“

 _Pondering, yes, philosophical, not so much._ _More like should I call Dongho to come pick me up and send me home or should I take my chances with the rum,_ Minhyun thinks bitterly.

“I ditched a party.“ _I was ditched_ by _a party, but that sounds pathetic._

“Aa.“

“I’d say I’m quite lost actually.“ _Except I have a phone that’s still full battery and there’s this thing called a GPS so, really, no, I’m not_ too _lost._

“I could help you with that.“

Minhyun raises an eyebrow, looking up to meet sharp, mischievous eyes. That’s when he realises it’s just the two of them left. The bartender holds out a hand.

“Ong Seongwoo, professional guide for wandering souls, at your service. Not Hong, not Gong. Ong.“

Minhyun offers a tired smile and takes his hand. It’s firm and warm.

“Hwang Minhyun. Tired and lost.“

Seongwoo nods, understanding.

“I’ll close up first. Don’t reckon anyone else would be coming in tonight, do you?“

Minhyun looks over his shoulder, out the door, at the dark, empty street with its one still-functioning lamp post.

“I highly doubt so.“

The corners of Seongwoo’s lips quirk up into a small smirk.

“Good.“

 

Seongwoo takes him through an alleyway, a little ways away from his bar. They walk in silence, under the dim streetlights, winding between buildings, encountering random, harmless, drunk stragglers. Once or twice, they pass by underground clubs, neon lights glowing through the below-ground level entrances. Occasionally, they feel the thrum of music beneath their feet.

He leads them to a row of shop lots, in a slightly busier area, covered in grafiti. They go up two flights of stairs attached to side of the building. A single door stands, light pouring out of the small window on it. There’s the plucking of guitar and the low buzz of chatter. Seongwoo tilts his head, inviting Minhyun in.

The strong scent of coffee mixed in with alcohol wafts over him but for once, it’s nice. It’s aromatic and sweet and bitter and Minhyun might’ve just found another One.

Minhyun orders a Long Black. His new companion gets a White Russian. They settle in. The atmosphere is good.

“So? What’s the story, morning glory?“ Seongwoo sing-songs. Minhyun takes a sip of his drink, taking a moment to revel in the strong, addictive bitter flavour.

“I don’t have one,“ he replies flatly. The other man pouts like a little kid (it’s a little endearing, Minhyun admits to himself).

“Why’d you ditch?“ He probes. Minhyun takes another sip, observing the decorations on the wall.

“I don’t drink.“

“That can’t be all of it.“

“I-“ he bites his lip. “I got ditched. So I ditched them back.“

Seongwoo listens, eyes going wide. A beat later, he bursts into loud, voracious laughter, wiping at his eyes.

“How in the hell did that happen, Minhyun-ssi?“ He exclaims between breaths. Minhyun sighs.

“I fell asleep,“ he says softly, hiding behind his mug and Seongwoo almost forgets how to laugh because the man sitting opposite him is precious and wait no, this is not how tonight was supposed to work out.

 

They’re walking closer downtown and the streets are a little more crowded now.

“So, I dropped out and it’s all working out quite fine, actually-“ Seongwoo’s retelling of his life’s story is cut off when he realises the person he was telling it to is no longer at his side. He whips around, searching and-

Hwang Minhyun has ducked into passing bookstore, picking up a book and beginning to read, obviously covering his face. Seongwoo chuckles to himself and joins the other in the light-wood structured store. Picking up a magazine himself, he covers his face and turns to his companion for the night.

“Who are we hiding from?“ He asks. Minhyun lowers his books slightly, very slightly, just enough to look over the edge, out the window. Seongwoo does the same, following his line of sight.

Outside, a rather large group of people charge on down the street, singing and laughing and having an overall good time. Except there seems to be an unending stream of them as they march and disappear into an underground club just across from the bookstore they’re hiding in. Beside him, Minhyun visibly deflates.

“What’re you so scared of?“ Seongwoo asks rather bluntly. The other man shrugs his question off, puts the book back on its shelf and decides to roam the store without answering.

Seongwoo follows him from opposite aisles, peaking through the shelves to get his attention.

“It’s nothing. I just don’t want them to notice I was gone. That would be rude,“ Minhyun mumbles, scanning through the titles.

“That’s not it,“ Seongwoo says, fitting his small head between a row of books. Minhyun glances over him and continues focusing on the books.

 

“How am I supposed to guide your wandering soul if you’re gonna be all mysterious with me?“

“We’re complete strangers, Seongwoo-ssi,“ Minhyun deadpans. Seongwoo lets out an exasperated sigh.

“Exactly!“

They’re sitting on a bench, overlooking the Hangang River. Seongwoo waves his bottle of soju around, trying to prove a point.

“We might never see each other again! Also, think about it, who the hell would I tell?“ He says matter-of-factly before taking a swig. Minhyun thinks for a long time, swirling the hot tteokbokki in its steaming red stew.

“I haven’t done a lot of things. And, I think I’m beginning to regret that quite a bit. Tonight just reminded me about that," he pauses, taking in the soft sound of the little dark waves lapping against the shore. "About all the things I didn’t do. Like, right now, I’m supposed to be out partying and having fun and trying to live my best rose-tinted campus life but I’m not…“ he trails off, realising he’d probably said too much because Seongwoo is too quiet.

“I didn’t mean-“ Minhyun begins realising how ungrateful that had sounded but gets cut off.

“No, I get it. Same here, actually. I could’ve had that ‘rose-coloured experience‘ but instead, I chose to drop out and inherit a bar,“ Seongwoo scoffs, shaking his head, taking another swig. Minhyun falls silent.

They look up at the moon.

“Do you want to see stars?“ Seongwoo says after a long while. Minhyun turns to him curiously. His new companion shrugs, a small, sheepish smile tugging at his lips. A moment later, Minhyun nods.

“Sure.“

 

Seongwoo is a natural, Minhyun learns soon enough. His movements are confident and fluid. He seems to grow younger right before his eyes.

“Let go!“ He shouts to the taller man, who just looks at him, confused. Seongwoo rolls his eyes.

“Hwang Minhyun, think of all the things you’ve never done. Let it all go!“

And slowly, Minhyun begins to move, raising his arms, closing his eyes, letting go.

It’s breathtaking, really. With the changing spectrum of colours that tint them, the thin sheen of sweat on their skin, hair matted to their foreheads.

Seongwoo draws closer to the other man. Slowly, he leans in and presses a wet kiss to his pulse. Minhyun’s eyes flutter open momentarily and Seongwoo thinks he’s made a mistake and Minhyun’s going to get mad and leave him-

The taller’s smile widens, his eyes slowly close once again, and he raises his arms higher, letting his hands trace messy patterns in the air. Seongwoo watches him, _oh shit oh shit oh shit-_

 

Minhyun sees stars.

The lights of Seoul twinkle down below, the sound of traffic and nightlife suddenly distant.

He lets his head fall to its side, onto his pillow. Beside him, Seongwoo shifts, moving closer to him until they’re both lying on their stomachs beside each other, looking down at the city.

“Don’t you think you should be sleeping instead of thinking so much with that big head of yours?“ Comes Seongwoo’s teasing lilt, husky from sleep. Minhyun frowns.

“Don’t get too comfortable. It’s only been a few hours since we first met,“ Minhyun scolds, but there’s no real bite behind his voice. Seongwoo chuckles and presses a kiss to his back.

“And yet here we are. How’s this for guidance of a lost soul?“

Minhyun scoffs, turning onto his side to face the other man, propping his head up on his arm.

“Not bad. Not bad at all.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> this is an old one i actually posted before months ago (but took down after a few hours because well it's kinda crap and disjointed) edited and felt pretty good about it so here we are :)
> 
> (if you've read this before, welpimsorry)
> 
> ps sorry bout the formatting. i'm tired


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